A Trip Through Time
by Cheeseball417
Summary: Professor Dumbledore calls Hermione into his office late one night to share with her a dream. Three years later, she finds herself forced to accept and before the night ends Hermione finds herself in a land far far away, in time that is, where she meets the World's Darkest Wizard. Can she complete Dumbledore's unspoken request?
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.** I just learned about this pairing and was far too intrigued not to try my hand at it. Enjoy, read and review!

_"Ah Miss Granger, I am sorry for calling you from bed, but I've just had the most peculiar dream and I would like for you to see it." Dumbledore smiled down at the young witch despite the severity of the knowledge he had just gained._

_The old man held his wand to his head and led his memory into the pensieve. Hermione quickly dove her head into the liquid, hoping it would walk her up before she entered her Headmaster's memory._

_"Albus." Dumbledore spoke, "You must intervene. Aberforth is dead. Fleur is dead. Hagrid is dead. Kingsley is dead. Tonks is dead. Remus is dead. Luna is dead. Neville is dead. George is dead. Fred is dead. Percy is dead. Bill is dead. Charlie is dead. Ginny is dead. Mrs. Weasley is dead. Mr. Weasley is dead. Snape is dead. McGonagall is dead. Flitwick is dead. Snape is dead. Ronald is dead. Harry is dead. They all die fighting Voldemort. You die as well, but a year prior to everyone else. You must intervene or else the world will be destroyed. Miss Granger is our only hope. I believe five good flicks will do it."_

_Hermione was pulled from the memory with a gasp, "Surely it was just a nightmare, Sir. What other explanations could there be." Hermione was obviously shaken by the news that those she held dear would soon be dead._

_"That is what I believed, but I had Severus conduct a few tests and he assured me that my mind had been invaded by a force greater than even he knew. And Severus knows of many great forces. He was nearly as accomplished as you are at your age."_

_"So then, Headmaster, what do you suggest we do about this ominous dream?" Hermione's brow wrinkled._

_"Well, we follow it." He handed her a necklace, "Remember. Five good flicks, Miss Granger. I wish you luck. I have already contacted my younger self through complicated means and I believe you will be received graciously. Oh and do take this. It will have some fashions of the day and a few old galleons so you may shop for supplies at your earliest convenience." Hermione took the bag._

_"Headmaster! I cannot simply go back in time and change what hasn't even happened yet! We will simply work to avoid that fate! I'm sorry Headmaster, but I cannot go off in time on a mere dream, even if it comes from a mind as intelligent as yours. It's against the law for Merlin's sake!"_

_"I see Miss Granger. This contraption here will assist you if you ever wish to rethink your decision. Just press this button and it will take you where you need to be, along with the bag." _Dumbledore tapped one of the many whizzing instruments on his desk and the vision dissolved.

Hermione regretted that horrible decision now as she ran through the ruins of Hogwarts with Ron and Harry at her side and two Death Eaters sprinting after them. Ron was hit with a killing curse and fell, but Harry pulled his friend on, knowing if they so much as hesitated they would fall next. The final two of the Golden Trio reached the Headmaster's office and sprung onto the stairs, magically sealing the passageway with one of the many protective enchantments they had perfected on the run.

"Harry hurry and watch your memories." Hermione commanded her friend, continuing her protections; "I can't keep them out forever."

Harry's head plunged into the pensieve, Snape's memories surely flickering through his mind. The images flickering through Hermione's mind were far worse than anything even Snape's unpleasant mind could contain. Their two pursuers had been joined by three more, then by Bellatrix and Lucius. Apparently the word was spreading that the boy-who-lived was cornered.

Death was running through the castle that night like a child in a candy store. Aberforth had died at the hands of a giant's massive club. Fleur and Bill passed when they tried to protect Molly, Ginny and Arthur from Bellatrix, but they had been killed, the other three quick to follow. Hagrid was murdered by Aragog's kin who then quickly devoured Neville, Luna and George. Fred attempted to redeem his brother by killing a giant, well, it worked, until the giant fell and killed not only Fred, but Tonks, Remus, Kingsley. Percy and Charlie had been dueling back to back, but had forgot to cover their flanks, something Dolohov swiftly used this to his advantage. McGonagall and Flitwick both died protecting students and Snape was killed just moments ago by the final Horcrux, Nagini. The only notable casualty on the evil side was the snake. Voldemort was mortal once more and yet there was no one left to finish him, or be harmed by him with the amount of carnage that occurred this one night.

The floor shook, sending Hermione tumbling to the floor. The sheilf she had casted was crumbling much as its counterpart that had stood around Hogwarts only hours ago. She yelled for Harry, but his head did not emerge. There was no time; the barrier had already crumbled and Death Eaters poured in by the dozens. Hermione's eyes darted about and she yelled once more for Harry. If she didn't do something fast they were both goners.

The memory from the last time she had been in this office echoed through her mind. Turning her head slightly to her left she saw the instrument Dumbledore had indicated, still smoking and whirling away as if Dumbledore had only stepped out to use the loo. Hermione lunged across the room and slapped the button.

Everything froze. Hermione was still in mid-air. Death Eaters were still sneering as the newest party guest, Voldemort himself, walked through the parted crowd. Harry was still bent over with his rear in the air. Everything was frozen. But just for a moment. It felt like she was apparating, only a thousand times worse, but the real pain didn't come until the apparating feeling went away.

She came flying down out of the air into an office. Her entire spine shook with the impact and Hermione knew enough about basic anatomy and heath to know she had many, many broken bones. Hermione groaned and forced her eyes open.

"I assume you are the girl I told myself about?" It was Dumbledore, or at least Hermione thought. He looked less… wrinkly, with auburn hair rather than silver and his hair and beard were only half the length they had been at his death. "Welcome to 1944. Drink this and the pain will subside. Nasty that time shooter is, reason why they aren't more popular I presume," Hermione hastily took the vial and downed its contents, reveling in the warm, yet cooling, sensation she felt run through her body, healing all her aches and pains. "Now, we must go see Headmaster Dippet. Get you enrolled and all."

Though Dumbledore escorted Hermione to the Gargoyle's of the Headmaster's office, he did not follow her up the moving stairs, citing a class as the reason.

Dippet was nice enough, less eccentric than Dumbledore, but he didn't set her on edge as she had expected. "Please, sit." She complied. "You must be the time traveler Dumbledore said would be coming. Things must be very bad in your time if he is allowing you to alter the past. Always plays by the rules that Dumbledore." Hermione had to hold back a snort, Dumbledore was good, but playing by the rules was not one of his priorities, "And what time would that be?"

"1998, Sir."

"And you're name?"

"Hermione Granger, Sir. But I feel as though I should go by a different name? So as not to arose suspicion? Hermione Evans," She stated, smiling at her use of Mrs. Potter's maiden name, "And when exactly am I, Sir?"

"September 5, 1944." The Headmaster glanced at his calendar to confirm, "I will send for my most trusted student to help you get yourself sorted. I believe you must have a cover story seeing as you can't go around telling people you are from the future, now can you?"

"Um." Hermione pondered for a minute. "I was recently orphaned and had, until then, been homeschooled. Mother was a witch; father a muggle. I can certainly make up the rest if anyone asks more questions."

"Yes. Yes. All very good." Dippet sent a quick patronus – a hippo – off into the depths of the school to retrieve her guide. Leaving her and Dippet with time to stair at each other with nothing to say.

Fifteen minutes later, a voice pierced the awkward silence. "I'm sorry for my tardiness, Headmaster." The voice was low and smooth and, if Hermione was completely honest extremely alluring. "I was in the process of brewing Veritaserum. I have been working on it for a month and simply had to finish since the end was so close. It would have been a shame if I ruined such a delicate potion, do you not agree."

"Ah, come in, come in my boy. It's not a problem at all." The Headmaster stood and ushered the boy into a chair beside Hermione. "How did the potion turn out?"

As the men made small talk, Hermione used her opportunity to observe the boy with the enticing voice. He was so attractive Hermione was convinced it must be criminal. She didn't recognize him – surely she would remember such beauty – so she decided against him having any descendants she would know, but he did seem vaguely familiar. He had jet-black hair coiffed slightly to the side and sweeping away in an elegant fashion. His eyes were nearly as dark and stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. When he had entered, Hermione had noticed that he seemed tall for whatever age he was and that he moved with a grace that simply could not be mimicked. His body was thin, but muscular, the type you would expect to see on the football (**A.N.** as in soccer) field. Hermione noticed that his robes were slightly too short, meaning they must be second hand or an old pair. Then she saw his hands, long-fingered and elegant with a single ring on his finger. Suddenly she knew who this man was before Dippet spoke his next words. She had to fight back a shriek, "So sorry Hermione, we're being so rude. I don't get to see dear Tom as often as I like seeing as he insists on taking so many N.E.W.T. classes. Hermione Evans, Tom Riddle. Tom, Hermione."

She had been sent back to 1994. Dumbledore had said she would be sent where she needed to be. Hermione really hoped her purpose was defeating the Nazi forces a year early. That would be far better than trying to affect teenaged Tom Riddle before he blossomed into Hitler's reincarnate. But Hermione knew Dumbledore and she knew that, though he certainly frowned upon the muggle war, it was Voldemort she was meant to stop before he even started.

"How do you do, Miss Evans?" The young Voldemort reached his right hand over to shake Hermione's. She was amazed neither her hand nor voice trembled as she returned his greeting.

"Tom, Hermione will be joining us here at Hogwarts in her seventh year as she has fallen upon a bit a bad luck lately. I was planning on using the remainder of the day to test her for placement in classes and then, assuming you can be spared, I was hoping you could take her into Diagon Alley to help her acquire the materials necessary tomorrow morning."

"Certainly, Sir. And what house might Miss Evans be in?" His elegant eyebrow arched and Hermione once again bit back bile.

"I have yet to sort her. You see I need a witness for her sorting, or else I could lie and put her in whichever house I please."

"But Professor, you would never do that."

"Maybe not I, but some of my predecessors weren't as noble. So if you don't mind getting the hat for Miss Evans, we shall begin."

Tom stood and took the hat off its high shelf. He placed it on her head and she flinched when his hand accidentally brushed her hair.

"Miss Evans?" The hat purred into her ear, "I'm getting a strange sense of déjà vu, Miss Granger. Though you are awfully far away from home. Would you like the same house?"

"Place me where you deem the most fit. It's not like I'll have any friends either way." Hermione grumbled in her head. If she was going to be miserable, might as well learn about another house.

"Alright then, Miss Evans. I see the nerve and bravery that made me first place you. And the loyalty and fairness of Hufflepuff. But the two have been overshadowed by your knowledge and wit. But I believe it is your cunning and resourcefulness that will place you in-"

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat roared, earning her an approving look from the last man on earth she wanted to be approved of, "I knew we would get along splendidly. Now Professor, if you do not need me any longer, Transfiguration will be starting in roughly five minutes and you know how Professor Dumbledore abhors tardiness." Tom stood upon receiving no objections, "I will return around six to collect Miss Evans for dinner, if that is quite alright with you, Headmaster?"

The Headmaster answered about what a marvelous idea it was, though Hermione thought it to be nothing of the sort, before dismissing Voldemort, as Hermione was determined to think of him.

"Well Miss Evans, I believe it time to begin your testing, though I suggest we pass by History, seeing as it could be detrimental if you were to reveal a part of history that has yet to happen." Hermione agreed and set quickly to work.

* * *

"Did you do well on your testing, Miss Evans?" Voldemort asked as soon as the two left the hallway leading to Dippet's office.

"I did, Mr. Riddle, thank you for asking." Hermione answered in an overly polite tone.

"Please, call me Tom. I'm not very fond of my surname." He took her silence as consent, "Did Professor Dippet give you a list of goods we will be shopping for?" Hermione handed him the list, Dippet had written for her. "Interesting, these are all advanced N.E.W.T. classes, nearly identical to my own schedule."

"I suppose I'm as outstanding as yourself, Mr. Riddle."

"Tom." He corrected with a smile that was just short of dazzling, but Hermione could see the displeasure burning behind his onyx orbs, "And you believe me to be outstanding? But we've barely known each other six hours." The smile turned into a mischievous smirk.

"Something the Headmaster said about you, that you were his most trusted student or something along those lines." The smirk grew even larger.

"Yes well, I do strive to set a good example being Head Boy and all. Now come, it simply would not do for me to leave you to fend for yourself in a crowded dining hall. You shall sight with myself and my _friends,"_ Noticing the fear that danced through Hermione's dark eyes, he added, "Unless you wish for me to make other arrangements for you? There are few females in Slytherin house, especially in the upper years, but I am certain I can find you some other pleasurable company."

"No. No." Hermione hastily contradicted his new set of plans, she had a mission after all, "It's just, they'd all be seventh year boys…" Reasonable excuse.

"That's true." He nodded, leading her down the long row of tables, "But they will be your only classmates as no female has returned for her seventh year, they are all off raising children and making homes." He scoffed at this, "And they won't bite, at least not while I'm around." Hermione felt tingles run down her spine.

"Is it customary here?" She asked, choosing to ignore the final statement beyond the spine tingling, "For women to leave school before completion to raise families?"

"Only for Slytherin. Pureblood families are being polluted and are the oldest of them are scrambling to find wives for their sons that are of noble blood. Occasionally there will be a worthy Ravenclaw, but usually it is the Slytherin who gets the owl with the proposal and is never heard from again for she is too busy popping out pureblood heirs."

"You seem to disapprove." Hermione observed as they neared an isolated group of students. _Had he not yet developed his hatred for muggles?_

"Just look at history. When people go uneducated everything begins to fail, the schools, the economy, the _morals_." He wrinkled his nose, "Though what the women are doing, sacrificing their education in order to repopulate the pureblood race, is noble, would it kill them if they waited another two years?" _Hates muggles, but he believes education is important: one thing we have in common._ "Anyway. Miss Evans, please meet Avery, Lestrange, Rosier, Muciber, Nott and Malfoy." Each boy nodded as their name was called, each nod sent another shiver down her back as she recognized the ancestor's of her enemies, "The first four are in their seventh year with us, while Nott and Malfoy are in their sixth years."

"It's nice to meet you all." She forced a smile on her face as she sunk into a seat between Voldemort and Malfoy.

"Abraxas Malfoy." The blonde introduced himself while filling his plate high with food. "That's Theodore Nott, Randolph Lestrange, Oliver Avery, Atticus Mulciber, Samuel Rosier." He gestured to each boy in turn, "We ought to be on a first name basis, don't you think?" He finished with a sly wink.

"I know you are not trying to seduce our new housemate already, Malfoy." Voldemort allowed his hard gaze to find the younger boys, "Or are you afraid if she spends any more time with you that you would scare off the only female over fourteen?"

"No- No, Tom I was just."

"I'm sure Abraxas was just attempting to be kind Mr. Riddle." Hermione jumped in, drawing young Voldemort's eyes to her own. The gaze was terrifyingly lethal, but after a second, they softened to only slightly lethal, "Is this true, Malfoy." The boy nodded eagerly, placating Tom for the time being.

"My name is Hermione." She smiled at the table, "Hermione Evans."

* * *

"Dinner was odd." Hermione stated as she followed Voldemort down into the dungeons.

"And why is that Miss Evans?" The boy asked, looking at her sideways.

"I didn't expect them to act like such boys…" She giggled as he raised an eyebrow at her and let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, but only the corners, after all, _Voldemort couldn't smile_. "I mean. They fought over food and discussed the Quidditch World Championship and they complained about schoolwork. I hadn't expected that from a group of seventh year Slytherins." _Especially not that group._ Though she didn't include that part of her thought.

"I suppose that makes sense. They do act rather juvenile considering their age. But do not dismay, Miss Evans, for eventually our classmates will mature, I do, however, beg you not to hold your breath for eventually could be a long time away for some of them." The twitching corners turned into a small grin, which Hermione returned. "Well here we are." Voldemort stopped by a expanse of clear dungeon wall and spoke "Squid." Then looked down at her amused expression, "They decided on a lake-theme this year." She laughed lightly and followed him into the common room.

The room had a dark beauty about it. The walls stretched into the air to support the high ceiling with pillars spaced evenly across the large floor. The only light came from the green lanterns that hung from the ceiling giving the room a greenish tint. The ornate furniture consisted of green and silver rugs and couches centered on a ginormous fireplace built of a green-gray stone. Around the hall there was the Slytherin emblem, hanging from walls, carved into stone, etched into desks. While the common room was very grand, it was also very cold.

Voldemort explained to me as we walked up a spiral staircase that since the house had so few females (only seventeen, now eighteen in total – five first, second and third years, two fourth years and now Hermione in seventh year) she would have her own room, which she could decorate however she pleased. There was obviously some sort of expansion charm on the dormitory for if there wasn't they would have been on the fifth floor by now. "This will be your room." He opened a door on the small seventh year hallway, "Bathroom's through that door. You can decorate it all you want. Transfiguration and all that," he waved his hand in a dismissive fashion before pointing off down the hall, "The boys live down in that direction and I'm in there, Head Boy privileges and all." _So this was before the Head's dormitory. _His room was directly across the hall from the boys' room. "I will leave you to arrange your room. I'll meet you here at seven for breakfast before we leave for Diagon Alley." Hermione nodded and thanked him for his help before setting about designing her room.

* * *

_ The girl is intriguing. Hermione Evans. The girl simply appeared, five days late for the start of term. She was intelligent as well, placed directly into all advanced classes with no questions asked. The girl had left me asking questions with the way she reacted to me, after all, the girl acted as though she hated me, but I had never seen her before today. I would remember those eyes anywhere. Could she possibly know about my extracurricular activities? No. Certainly not for if anyone, even a bloody Gryffindor, knew about the Knights' true purpose and capabilities they would be quaking in fear and completely unable to maintain pleasant dinner conversation with the perpetrators._

_ Malfoy will have to be punished, that is certain. He had been far to forward with the new girl, which had been disgraceful to my ancestor's house. Malfoy strut about the castle, whoring himself away, giving all Slytherins a bad name. I would deal with him during the Knights' meeting tomorrow after I ensure Hermione is settled into her new setting._

_-Tom _

Sprout 2nd year

McGonagall 1st year


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The knock came far to early for Hermione's liking. The young witch slowly sat up in her bed, stretching her arms and legs as far as they would go. Another unwelcome knock sounded across the room. She swung her legs out of the security of her bed and crossed the room. Opening the door only a sliver she came face to face with two silver bands wrapping their way around a forest green tie and disappearing under a perfectly white collar and a dark gray sweater.

Hermione's eyes quickly flicked up at his chuckle, "Though they are very far out of Slytherin dress code, I do believe I'll allow the shorts." She followed his gaze down to her own appearance, a gray tank top with gold and red shorts that were modest in her time – reaching the mid thigh - but quite scandalous in her new era. "Well, I was planning to escort you down myself, but I don't have patience for tardiness. I shall leave you to ready yourself wear whatever you feel comfortable in, we will not be attending classes today so the uniform is not necessary. Meet me in the Great Hall. We leave at eight." He turned to leave but stopped, allowing his eyes to glare into her lighter set, "Remember Miss Evans, I have no patience for tardiness." With a swish of his cloak he was gone.

Hermione retreated back into her room and scowled at her magical bag from Dumbledore. As she brushed her teeth she scolded herself for being so stupid as to wear clothing from the _late_ twentieth century. The shorts were literally the _only_ clothing that could betray her for who she was; yet she dared to wear them and she had gotten caught.

She readied herself quickly, donning a pair of conservative flats and a knee length, blue, polka dot dress. With a few hair charms, her long, curly mane spun itself into a simple bun at the nape of her neck. She had ten minutes until she was supposed to leave with Tom. She took off at a near-sprint for the Great Hall.

"You're late." The drawl came from the Heir of Slytherin when Hermione sat herself at the table, "Don't bother. We had a schedule to keep. Let's go." The boy stood abruptly and stalked from the hall.

She turned to follow, but another voice called to her, "'Mione. Here." Rosier handed her a napkin-wrapped parcel of food. She was too shocked to respond, "Now go. Tom gets grumpy when people mess with his plans."

'Rosier was a death eater.' The witch thought as she hurried from the hall, 'He's worse than the rest too since he help Voldemort launch his campaign. If he and the others hadn't lent Tom Riddle their support he never would've gained power. And yet he had given me food when I was hungry. Death Eaters can't be good and bad. Can't have it both ways!'

"Grab ahold." Riddle instructed, offering her his arm after they crossed though the Hogwarts gates. Upon seeing the repulsion cross through her eyes, he amended, "Unless you can apparate?"

"I can. To Diagon Alley?" He nodded and allowed her to apparate on her own before following close behind.

Tom couldn't help but notice how quickly the girl progressed through her list. It was almost as if she knew where everything was before even he knew and he had just fulfilled the same requirements less than a week before. "Miss Evans?" Tom prefaced, "If you don't mind me asking, how does a lovely young witch such as yourself appear out of no where in her seventh year at a prestigious wizarding school?"

The question had taken her by surprise. Though she _had_ been expecting her past to be questioned, she hadn't expected it this soon. She stuttered a bit as she began to weave her tale, "My mum died when I was very young, a potions accident, and, just recently, my father was killed in a train crash which prompted me to enroll in Hogwarts."

"I am sorry for your loss." He didn't sound sorry one bit, "And how did you learn for all these years? Another school perhaps?"

"I was homeschooled." She stated plainly, browsing the Magical Menagerie for a pet.

"By your father?" He persisted.

"Of course not! He was a muggle."

"But your mother was dead." He stated bluntly, causing her to turn from her inspection of a small owl, "How did you learn enough to become such an advanced witch?"

"Ok Tom. You can't tell this to anyone." She had to hold back the giggles as she attempted one of Ginny's favorite strategies, "My name isn't Hermione Evans. I'm from the future, come back to kill you." Her laughter broke through earning her an evil eye from her tall companion, "Oh! Look at him!" Hermione exclaimed, turning the conversation around and beckoning to a small kitten perched on the highest shelf. "He's so pretty."

"That's the one you want?" Tom looked at her skeptically, "Not an owl, far more useful."

"No. Him." Hermione scowled at him and reached up to take the kitten into her arms.

"Glad to see someone take a liking to him." The storekeeper appeared from the mess of feathers and furballs, "Crookshanks here has been here for two weeks. All his siblings have already sold."

Hermione looked at the much younger version of the cat she had gotten back in her third year, fifty years from now. She noticed Tom and the cat having a little stare off. "I'll take him."

* * *

"Now you only need a cauldron. I trust you can find one on your own, I have my own business to attend to." Before Hermione could respond, Voldemort had already left her in the middle of the apothecary.

Hermione made very quick work of buying her cauldron, being unintentionally rude to the clerk, and flew from the shop and down the street in the direction she had seen Tom flee. With her quickened pace, she caught sight of him ducking into Knockturn Alley. Although Hermione _knew_ following THE Dark Lord into THE Knockturn Alley was a bad idea, she didn't listen and followed him anyway. The innocent girl tucked into an alleyway, hiding in the shadows; waiting for Tom to exit the shop he had entered.

Ten minutes later and he appeared in the doorway, but he turned back around. A silent pop sounded mere centimeters behind her. Hermione found herself being spun around and the phrase "caught between a rock and a hard place" flickered through her head for she was pressed between the wall of the alley and Tom Riddle's chest. With the way his heart was thumping and his breath was flowing, she needn't look up to see the anger in his eyes.

"You were following me." He demanded, "Why?"

"I-" she squeaked, "I finished in the apothecary quickly and saw you, so I called your name but you didn't hear me. I followed and when I saw you turn down here… I-"

"You what?" He roughly tilted her chin so he could see into her eyes. His eyes had adopted a reddish tinge, making her completely unable to speak, "Legilimens." _Close your mind._ "How are you resisting?"

"I am, as you've said yourself, a very advanced witch. And if you ever try that on me again, you will see some magic that will leave even this lot," Hermione flicked her hand in its limited space between her and Tom's chest, "quaking in fear. Now I suggest you let go of me."

"If you answer one question." Hermione inclined her head in what looked like impatience, but really she was just downright terrified, "Why did you follow me?" She remained silent, "I'm not letting you go until you tell me."

_I could hex him._ "I was worried." The words came out before she could stop them, "I've heard this is a dark place and you're just a boy, no matter how hard you try not to be." Suddenly Hermione realized her quick lie could be the truth, after all she _had_ felt worry about _something_. Could it have been Tom's well being rather than her own? No certainly not, he was Lord Voldemort, not matter how innocent he appeared.

"You were _worried?_" His voice was utterly confused. Hermione felt pity for the boy who wasn't used to being cared about, "About _me_? I've been a complete arse to you the entire morning."

"But I threw you entirely off schedule, though you still could be more pleasant." She smirked up at him, "Everyone need _someone_ to watch his back."

"Not me." He pushed away from the wall, leaving Hermione suddenly cold, "I can watch my own back thank you very much. Now we must be leaving." Before he apparated away, Hermione knew she had seen something shift in those dark eyes, but what it was exactly escaped her.

**A.N.**Remember! Review! Also, I know how I want the story to end, but I'm not very good with the in the middle fluff, so if anyone has any ideas, let me know!


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